Thursday, June 25, 2009

"Brian Blair, 52, spent Father’s Day in jail in Hillsborough County after a domestic dispute when he was arrested on charges that he punched both of his sons early in the morning....blah blah blah....The report said that Blair pushed his 17-year-old son Brett in the chest. According to the report, when his son tried to walk away, Brian punched him in the face with a closed fist, leaving a red mark that caused swelling, and then put him in a choke hold. Police deputies then said Blair let go of Brett and grabbed his 12-year-old son, Bradley, by the throat, and punched him on the top of his head, leaving a lump. When deputies arrived, they saw the bruising of both sons faces and they both said it was their father who did it."

Since this was so close to the two year anniversary of Benoit himself Benoiting his family, there's no word on whether or not this was some sort of weird tribute to the greatest Canadian grappler in pro wres history or if it was some kind of crazy coincidence...or just drunken horseplay. "Jumpin'" Jim Brunzell could not be reached, but I'm guessing he got some texts that night containing Blair's physical address.

Saturday, June 20, 2009

Dusty Rhodes, a big-bellied, jive-talking heavyweight who was at his best on wrestling's biggest stage, died of cardiopulmonary arrest (aka Heart Punch) Wednesday at a Las Vegas hospital. He was old.Rhodes, whose jive-talking promos was tailor-made for the racist south like Florida, never weighed less than 244 lbs. during seven major-level title reigns and had a career average of .253 elbow fortitude (due to calcium deposits from drinking unflourided waters from his plumber father's belief systems).But in his first World title reign, in like the '80s, he delivered a reverse figure-four like right before the time limit, to turn the tide, and win a championship by beating the way more awesome and way more stylish and way less fat Ric "A Nature Boy" Flair.Rhodes also won the title again a couple times, and maybe even before that with Harley Race, but fuck looking gay assed shit like that up. His multiple NWA World title reigns were the only ones by a huge fucking fat ass who talked funny ever.Although the NWA World title is best remembered for "Whoo!" Ric Flair's great running catch phrase that he beat to death and now is on lottery tickets in North Carolina, it was Rhodes sequined Rollo-style hats (like Rollo on Sanford & Son) that proved to be most memorable. Yet, somehow the world is a faggot, and Rhodes got sent to the WWWF, where he wore polka dots with an ugly nigger bitch who couldn't sing like Sharon Jones.The WWWF tried, but no other woman wanted Rhodes."I decided Rhodes couldn't wrestle or be original and I decided fuck it, let's make him a joke," the coked-up Vince McMahon, a Hall of Fame business-type dude who made the Forbes 500 list once, said after Rhodes' Pokadelick Adventure came to an end. "Get rid of him. He can't do nothing. He convinced me how wrong I was, like eventually, especially when I got his only son to dress up like some weirdo faggot and split up with his slut wife, who sucked my dick. But to be fair, she probably sucked Dusty's too."But the WWWF wasn't Rhodes only brush with wrestling history. In Florida back in the day, he wrestled 300 men in one month.The '82 year was his best; he had a career-high .341 bionic elbow index with 15 Florida title reigns and 50 World title shots in only 264 days of working.In his autobiography, "Everybody Has a Price," McMahon called the buffet-loving Rhodes "the worst wrestler who ever wrestled in a Wrestlemania." But he also wrote that Rhodes' personality kept the locker room "confident and happy.""He was a lovable guy. He was a party guy. He was just a good old boy," Kareem Muhammad, a cousin of Rhodes' wife, Gloria, said Thursday. "Did he live a hard life? Did he go out at night? Yes. But he was a good man. He was a Southern gentleman."Virgil Runnels Rhodes was born on May 13, 1947, in Mathews, Ala., and grew up "dirt poor," according to Muhammad.He joined the Navy shortly after his 19th birthday, seeing action on a warship in the jungle during the Vietnam conflict, then signed his first wrestling contract with Tennessee Championship Wrestling in 1968.But he spent his entire most well-known time with the WWWF, where kids knew him as the funny fat dude in polka dots with that weird bump on his belly.A product of the segregationist South who wrestled his first professional match the year that Abdullah the Butcher became the first African American wrestler to poke forks in white dudes, Rhodes was "color blind," former fellow boy in the back Ron Bass said."He was like a brother to all the black players, you know, like brutha," Bass told this bloggot. "He sure did like the good life, though, which would drive promoters crazy."After his wrestling career ended, Rhodes returned to New York, where he worked doing all that bullshit that old wrestlers behind the scenes do to justify keep getting a paycheck even though they don't do shit anymore in a real sense. Road agents there wore their fanny packs at half mast in his memory Thursday, his family said.Rhodes retired to Boca Raton, Fla., then to Henderson, Nev., with Gloria, his wife of 30 years."He loved wrestling. He loved his kids. He loved his wife," Muhammad said. "I don't know in what order. But he was a funny guy. He would tell you a story and you'd fall on the floor. And then he'd elbow drop you, except his elbow would miss and his belly stank and shaven armpit would wrap around your face."Over the last two years, Rhodes battled heart problems, the diabeetus and emphysema (hence the wheezing), which resulted in frequent visits to hospital emergency rooms, Muhammad said.He was on his way to a regular medical check-up when he bumped into Ox Baker at a sandwich shop and went into cardiopulmonary arrest, dying a few hours later at Valley Hospital Medical Center in Las Vegas, according to a spokeswoman for the Clark County coroner's office.In addition to his wife, Rhodes' survivors include three children from a previous marriage; a sister (who once had ink thrown in her eyes); and 11 mostly illegitimate grandchildren.A memorial service will be held Sunday at the David Funeral Home in Las Vegas, to be followed by a funeral and military burial Monday.

Friday, June 19, 2009

To the surprise of absolutely nobody, Akitoshi Saito, the puro fake fighter who executed the famed the "Straw that Broke the Camel's Back" suplex is absolutely butt-shook over being the guy who finally pushed over the pro wres equivalent of the Leaning Tower of Pisa. From the new Observer:

The most vivid scene of the night was Saito, 43, who had to be talked out of announcing his retirement that day, getting on his hands and knees to a large framed photo of Misawa, crying and being apologetic. It was actually at that point when fans realized that Misawa died directly related to the move, as opposed to the possibility it was a heart attack suffered in the heat of battle.

We at 6-3-94, while still acknowledging the sheer faggotry of such a moment, would like to absolve Saito of his guilt. Come on, dude, be real. Misawa's neck was to the point where, if it hadn't been you, it would have been the Teacup Ride at Disneyland Japan. The guy was pretty much a Pez dispenser, and you should definitely not blame yourself. And if you absolutely need to apologize, don't fucking cry like a gay bitch (TM Benoit) in front of the last good photo Misawa had done at Glamourshots. WTF dude. Ox Baker killed a man with the heart punch and made a career off of it. Surely you can parlay this into something instead of contemplating retirement and weeping, Emily Dickinson.

The show opens with Mick Foley, followed by a clown, some large beaner looking dude and one of the Hebners (since we never really can tell which one is which on a count of them being TWINS). Mick then up and invites a bunch of people to the ring. Mick is wearing a leopard print shirt that looks as if it were cut out of the side of a thrift store couch. Jeff Jarrett comes out and looks none to pleased at Mick. Apparently AJ Styles is a champion of some sorts? The Legends Champ? Hmmm. Samoa Joe comes out wearing a shirt over his shoulders as opposed to his using it to cover his man tits. Mick announces the main event which happens to be a like 8 man cluster fuck and Samoa Joe punches him.

Raven is in the back with Daffney and some Stevie Richards looking dude. Is that Stevie Richards? No clue. Raven says he's going to have one of his Dr. Strangelove matches with some dude named Jethro. Color me intrigued! Raven seems to be back into fat Jim Morrison mode, which at this point is the only acceptable Raven.

Apparently Target outsourced his ass, so Shane Douglas has been attacking Daniels. Now we get DANIELS vs Amazing Red. Red is doing the STIFF LEG KICK offense that looks cool when it's not being done by a ginger midget. Red kicks Daniels in the face like a thousand times. Daniels responds like any normally sized man would respond to a child kicking him: He no sells it. Daniels wins somehow and then FRANCHISE SHANE DOUGLAS pops up on the Russotron and demands a second chance and accepts Daniels challenge! Apparently only one of them will have a job after that match! DRAMA!

Random shit backstage with some blonde ho, a large negress and some middle eastern looking chick. w/e

Matthew Morgan calls out Sting. He points out all the ways he's better than Sting, then says he didn't come out here to point out all the ways he's better than Sting. Counter productive, Matthew. Matthew says that he wants to gain respect and that Sting needs to give respect and then he challenges him to a match, I think? Sting then threatens to bite off Matthew's finger and accepts his challenge at Slamiversery and if Matthew wins he'll get Sting's spot in the Main Event Mafia. Whoa. Matthew tries to Pearl Harbor Sting and misses.

Jay Bee has Jeff Jarrett in the back. Jeff is ANGRY. Angry about MIC FOLEY. Apparently Mick is crazy and Jeffery is none too please about it!

Time for Raven's Full Metal Jacket match! OK, so Jethro= Trevor Murdoch and that really was Stevie. Jethro hits Raven with a trash can. The wall of weapons has a lot of cool shit and so Jethro grabs... a cookie sheet. Raven does the leg sweep into the guard rail spot, only much slower than usual. Raven grabs a chair and somehow ends up punching it. Jethro hits a knee to Raven and then kinda gently tosses him into the fence. Jethro dives into the cage which then falls to the ground so Raven gets the pin. Raven puts Jethro in the straight jacket and then the lobster A Chris comes out and Stevie, Raven and Daffney's tits decide to GTFO.

Dee Dubya is interviewing Samoa Joe and apparently Joe has been being ADVISED by someone. WHO CAN IT BE? TAZ? UMAGA? BETTY CROCKER? The possibilities are endless!

There is some babbling about some shit happening later and then some bitches say some bitchy stuff and then a commercial. Wait, iMPACT! is 2 hours now? When in the fuck did this happen? And Abyss talks now? WHAT IN THE FUCK!

So know there is a skank match that I have no interest in so I shall play mine sweeper in the mean time.

Team 3D are pissed off with Beer Money. And now we go to a commercial.

This Cody Deaner I've heard so much about appears to be a real hoot! Jay Lethal is still doing the Savage thing, so at least somethings in TNA never change. The Machine Guns are still kinda non threatening. Another commercial.

Beer Money and Team 3-D are having an adult oriented conversation about beer and money. James Storm made the fatal mistake of telling a black man to be his bitch. Negroes hate that shit. It's like the ultimate insult in their culture. I read that somewhere.

Jay Lethal and some Creed dude enter the ring and they look happy! They're going to be tagging with the Machine Guns who are the holders of some nip nong tag belts. Team 3-D and beer money brawl out to the ring. Daniels, I, uh, mean SUICIDE attacks the Guns. 3-D gets the win.

Joe and AJ are backstage and Joe PROMISES AJ that he has his back which leads me to believe that he does NOT have AJ's best interest in mind. Jesus Christ, this shit is long.

Gay Bee is talking to Mick Foley. Billy Gunn comes in and says something or rather. Dee Dubya and Tenay do the hard sell for the PPV. Now Gay Bee is talking to Kurt Angle. A 3 Doors Down Geico Caveman comercial airs, and honestly, it's kinda funny. Maybe it only seems funny compared to TNA.

Time for the main event 249233689832 man cluster fuck! This match is basically Joe, AJ, and a half dozen broken down guys. Angle reverses a Stroke into an ankle lock. Mick Foley decides to join the announce team, some other shit happens and then a commercial. Mick keeps shining Jeff on when he needs to make a tag. Is Jarrett a face? Jeff decks Foley. Joe hits the muscle buster on Angle and gets the win. Joe and AJ embrace! Joe really DID have AJ's back!

Monday, June 15, 2009

David Herbert Meltzer Jr is reporting that the death of Mitsuharu Misawa was, according to police and hospital workers, most definitely caused by a spinal cord injury and not a heart attack as first reported.

Above: artist's rendering

First that kid in Florida is murdered via power bomb, then Daniel Benoit, and now this. Clearly, congress has to do something about the rash of Strong Style killings. In a related note, Doctor Death Steve Williams, inventor of the "Homicide Backdrop," was quoted as saying "daaaaaamn."

Saturday, June 13, 2009

Misawa, the man who was the very essence of work rate, dies in the ring. Meanwhile, Tommy Dreamer not only continues to live but is now holding the 15th most important belt in the pro wrestling world. Someone stop the planet, I want off.

(At a the start of a ROH show Gabe makes a shocking return and slowly walks to the ring)

Ladies and Gentlemen,

"I'm only going to talk to you just for a minute or so this evening, because I have some -- some very sad news for all of you -- Could you lower those signs, please? -- I have some very sad news for all of you, and, I think, sad news for all of our fellow citizens, and people who love peace all over the world; and that is that Mitsuharu Misawa, one of the greatest pro wrestlers of all-time, was declared dead at 10:10 p.m. Saturday night at a hospital in Hiroshima from an apparent heart attack after being being given a back suplex in a tag team title matchMitsuharu Misawa, dedicated his life to love and to justice between fellow human beings. He died in the cause of that effort. In this difficult day, in this difficult time for the world, it's perhaps well to ask what kind of a world we are and what direction we want to move in. For those of you who have fighting spirit -- considering the evidence evidently is that there were people with no fighting spirit" who were responsible -- you can be filled with bitterness, and with hatred, and a desire for revenge.

We can move in that direction as a IWC, in greater polarization -- fighting spirit people amongst fighting spirit, and sports entertainment amongst whites, filled with hatred toward one another. Or we can make an effort, as Mitsuharu Misawa, did, to understand, and to comprehend, and replace that violence with more workrate related violence, that stain of bloodshed that has spread across our land, with an effort to understand, compassion, and love.

For those of you who are puro nerds and are tempted to fill with -- be filled with hatred and mistrust of the injustice of such an act, against all people, I would only say that I can also feel in my own heart the same kind of feeling. I had a member of my family killed, but he was killed by a sports entertainment man.

But we have to make an effort in the Wrestling World. We have to make an effort to understand, to get beyond, or go beyond these rather difficult times.

Even in our sleep, pain which cannot forgetfalls drop by drop upon the heart,until, in our own despair,against our will,comes wisdomthrough the awful grace of God.

What we need in the IWC is not division; what we need in the IWC is not hatred; what we need in the IWC is not violence and lawlessness, but violence and lawlessness with that are more physiological

So I ask you tonight to return home, to say a prayer for the family of Mitsuharu Misawa, -- yeah, it's true -- but more importantly to say a prayer for our own IWC, which all of us love -- a prayer for understanding and that compassion of which I spoke.

We can do well in this IWC. We will have difficult times. We've had difficult times in the past, but we -- and we will have difficult times in the future. It is not the end of violence; it is not the end of lawlessness; and it's not the end of disorder.

But the vast majority of Puro people and the vast majority of sports entertainment people in this country want to live together, want to improve the quality of our life, and want justice for all human beings that abide in our land.

And let's dedicate ourselves to what the Greeks wrote so many years ago: to tame the savageness of man and make gentle the life of this world. Let us dedicate ourselves to that, and say a prayer for our country and for our people.

CONTACT:

If you have any comments, questions, feedback, complaints, hot tips, etc., please feel free to e-mail us at: 6.3.94.mailslot@gmail.com

6-3-94 Manifesto

In the days of ancient Rome men tried to best each other physically by imposing their will on one other. Sometimes this lead to the death of one of the competitors. Sometimes it lead to a friendship or brotherhood bond being formed. More often than not it ended with the two dudes fucking the shit out of each other. Faggotry and wrestling have long had a mutually parasitic relationship. Where faggotry is afoot wrestling cannot be far behind. Where there is wrestling you can rest assured that faggotry is nearby, jerking off furiously. This is the way it has always been and the way it shall always be. Though men have tried to change this dynamic throughout the ages they have all failed. Spandex, pyrotechnics, midgets, fake tits and sports entertainment cannot mask the overwhelming scent of gay that always accompanies wrestling. You can always be certain of these three things: The sun always rises in the morning, politicians always lie and wrestling will always be gay as fuck. We are merely observers; scribes charged with the duty of recording, analyzing and mocking this faggotry. These are our words.